In Philadelphia, when the news reached the stock exchange, it came first in the form of a brief despatch addressed to the stock board from the New York Stock Exchange—­“Rumor on street of failure of Jay Cooke & Co.  Answer.”  It was not believed, and so not replied to.  Nothing was thought of it.  The world of brokers paid scarcely any attention to it.  Cowperwood, who had followed the fortunes of Jay Cooke & Co. with considerable suspicion of its president’s brilliant theory of vending his wares direct to the people—­was perhaps the only one who had suspicions.  He had once written a brilliant criticism to some inquirer, in which he had said that no enterprise of such magnitude as the Northern Pacific had ever before been entirely dependent upon one house, or rather upon one man, and that he did not like it.  “I am not sure that the lands through which the road runs are so unparalleled in climate, soil, timber, minerals, etc., as Mr. Cooke and his friends would have us believe.  Neither do I think that the road can at present, or for many years to come, earn the interest which its great issues of stock call for.  There is great danger and risk there.”  So when the notice was posted, he looked at it, wondering what the effect would be if by any chance Jay Cooke & Co. should fail.

He was not long in wonder.  A second despatch posted on ’change read:  “New York, September 18th.  Jay Cooke & Co. have suspended.”

Cowperwood could not believe it.  He was beside himself with the thought of a great opportunity.  In company with every other broker, he hurried into Third Street and up to Number 114, where the famous old banking house was located, in order to be sure.  Despite his natural dignity and reserve, he did not hesitate to run.  If this were true, a great hour had struck.  There would be wide-spread panic and disaster.  There would be a terrific slump in prices of all stocks.  He must be in the thick of it.  Wingate must be on hand, and his two brothers.  He must tell them how to sell and when and what to buy.  His great hour had come!

Chapter LIX

The banking house of Jay Cooke & Co., in spite of its tremendous significance as a banking and promoting concern, was a most unpretentious affair, four stories and a half in height of gray stone and red brick.  It had never been deemed a handsome or comfortable banking house.  Cowperwood had been there often.  Wharf-rats as long as the forearm of a man crept up the culverted channels of Dock Street to run through the apartments at will.  Scores of clerks worked under gas-jets, where light and air were not any too abundant, keeping track of the firm’s vast accounts.  It was next door to the Girard National Bank, where Cowperwood’s friend Davison still flourished, and where the principal financial business of the street converged.  As Cowperwood ran he met his brother Edward, who was coming to the stock exchange with some word for him from Wingate.